<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>this devil inside of me by Splat_Dragon</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27111988">this devil inside of me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Splat_Dragon/pseuds/Splat_Dragon'>Splat_Dragon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020 [15]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>#25, #26, Arthur Whump, Concussions, Injury, Number 25, Number 26, Prompt 26, Prompt: Altered States, Prompt: Blurred Vision, Prompt: Concussion, Prompt: Disorientation, Prompt: Punctured, Prompt: Ringing Ears, Shock, Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020, alt#1, alt#6, prompt 25, whumptober2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:00:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>984</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27111988</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Splat_Dragon/pseuds/Splat_Dragon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Whumptober 2020, alt. #1: Punctured<br/>Whumptober 2020, alt. #6: Altered States<br/>Whumptober 2020, #25: I Think I'll Just Collapse Right Here, Thanks: "Disorientation" "Blurred Vision" "Ringing Ears"<br/>Whumptober 2020, #26: If You Thought The Head Trauma Was Bad...: "Concussion"</p><p>Arthur was decently sure he was upside down. Least it felt like it, he was no stranger to the feeling of blood rushing to his head, and his head was throbbing in that way, his mouth tasting vaguely metallic. <i>‘Shiiit.’</i> Tried to right himself, and found he couldn’t, an uncomfortable tugging sensation on his stomach that… was becoming more painful than uncomfortable, okay, ouch.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020 [15]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1945801</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>this devil inside of me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3 class="title">
<em>this devil inside of me</em><br/>~Dear Wormwood, Oh Hellos</h3><p>The trolley was going to crash.</p><p> </p><p>He knew that the second he saw the broken brake.</p><p> </p><p>Arthur only had time to warn Lenny and Dutch—</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Hold on!” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>—and to jump, to grab onto the railings as they went weightless, leaving his stomach behind</p><p> </p><p>his eyes went to Lenny, the kid bracing himself against a bench, and to Dutch, doing the same</p><p> </p><p>and then there was the godawful scream of horses, mechanical screeching, and he lost his grip</p><p> </p><p>his hand slipped off one, the other wobbled, his hand tore free and he lost his balance, lost time oh god his <em> head. </em></p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Arthur was decently sure he was upside down. Least it felt like it, he was no stranger to the feeling of blood rushing to his head, and his head was throbbing in that way, his mouth tasting vaguely metallic. <em> ‘Shiiit.’ </em>Tried to right himself, and found he couldn’t, an uncomfortable tugging sensation on his stomach that… was becoming more painful than uncomfortable, okay, ouch.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Arthur, what the hell are you waiting for? We need to go!” oh. That was Dutch. He usually listened to Dutch - always. He <em> always </em> listened to Dutch, and tried again, braced his palms against the ground and pushed off and <em> pain </em> his vision went white and he couldn’t even scream, the sound died in his throat.</p><p> </p><p>“Dammi-Lenny, get him!”</p><p> </p><p>the kid’s footsteps were <em> loud, </em> clattering on the ruined metal of the trolley, and then there was a loud “Oh <em> shit, </em> Dutch get over here!” and Dutch swore, beginning to stomp over before beginning to cuss a blue streak, sprinting over from the sounds of it and dropping to his knees beside him. He tries to rise again and there’s a strange pull on his side - he chokes, <em> pain, </em>and goes back down, a pair of hands pressing against his ribs and pressing him against the ground.</p><p> </p><p>His ears stop ringing - well, no they don’t, but it fades enough for him to make out “-him <em> down, dammit!” </em> and then another pair of hands are pressing on him and <em> fuck that hurts! </em> Agony shoots out from where he’s <em> burning, </em> he can’t breathe and though humiliation pools in his chest he honest to god <em> whines </em> like a struck dog, Lenny gasping “Sorry!” over and over above him.</p><p> </p><p>Why the hell were they pinning him down? The trolley crashed, they needed to go! So he pressed on the ground, tried to push off but they were pinning him down and though he was normally strong he felt alarmingly weak, and it was easy for Dutch and Lenny to keep him down - besides, Dutch was barking “Dammit Arthur, stay down!” and he always at least <em> tried </em> to listen to Dutch, though he couldn’t understand what Dutch was thinking at the moment (they needed to go!) he always had a plan so he slumped back to his stomach, burning <em> agony </em> in his side leaving him to whine.</p><p> </p><p>“I know son, I know,” and why did Dutch sound so worried? He tried to raise his head, tried to look, but then there was a hand in his hair, running through it even as it pushed his head back to the ground, “No, son, stay down,” and didn’t he always listen to Dutch?</p><p> </p><p>“Dutch, what’re we gonna do?” and why did the kid sound so afraid?</p><p> </p><p>“Dutch…?” he asked, trying to gain his wits about him, but his head was <em> killing him </em>and his mind was spinning and what had happened?</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t… I don’t know, we can’t remove he’ll bleed to death,” who? Who was bleeding? He tried to raise his head but again Dutch pushed him down, murmuring to him soothingly and was he the one hurt?</p><p> </p><p>Oh. Huh, his side hurt. He tried to look but Dutch pushed him down again, “Lenny, can you try and get it out of the floor? I think it’s come unfastened.” and then <em> agony, </em> something tearing at his side and he <em> screamed, </em> tried to curl in on himself but Dutch stopped him, grabbed his arms and tucked him against his chest, “I know son, I know,” and Lenny was gasping “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” and shit he could see was that <em> rebar? </em> no, one of the hand poles sticking up beside him, that wasn’t good… he didn’t think at least? He thought they’d been longer but this one looked short and that was strange.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“D’tch?” he tried again, and the man’s face swam into focus above him, strained and strange, as though he were trying a grin and failing horribly, eyes darting from his face to something out of sight then back again,</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay Arthur, we’ve got you,” then he barked, “Lenny, help me get him up!” and getting up… he thought he could do that but then he <em> couldn’t, </em>what the hell had happened? agony shot through his side and he cried out, legs buckling but they were there to catch him, then agony through his side again, like something was moving in him, “Watch the goddamn pole son!”</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry boss!”</p><p> </p><p>“C’mon Arthur, we got you,” and they moved him forward one step at a time, moving awkwardly and he didn’t quite understand why, something was definitely <em> wrong </em> he knew that but each time he tried to look Dutch would tug at his hair and demand “No, Arthur, eyes forward,” and he always listened to Dutch so he’d do what he said until he’d get dizzy, dropping his head, then obey when Dutch said “Arthur, eyes up,” though it made his head spin and throb, nausea churn in his stomach.</p><p> </p><p>They stopped at the stairs of the trolley, Lenny’s voice shaking as he said, “Dutch? That’s a lotta lawmen,”</p><p> </p><p>and Dutch’s voice was hesitant even as he ran his fingers through Arthur’s hair, gradually taking on more of the man’s weight, “I know, son. I’ve got a plan.”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>